There’s always about summer that excites everyone. I know that the heat is more than scourging, punitive really when you think about it. But when immaculately white beaches and fine sand come to mind, everything’s forgotten. No amount of excessively damaging tropical heat can hold me from hitting the sea and the sand, regardless of my poor ‘beach’ physique state. Really, it is horrible so I’d spare you of mind-boggling, unnecessary intestine-twisting workout sight of my even half-naked pictures. Given the erratic gene composition and the who-cares-if-I-die-from-too much eating attitude, I’m sure you have the idea where the bulges run to for comfort, yes, the thighs, chin, and that belly you barely see uncovered (which I’m sure most of you appreciate sooo much).

Summer’s not even about being buff and all, although it matters to a few lot. It’s more of having great fun and doing everything that you want to do come hell or high waters. Being a certified island inhabitant, I take pride in knowing the pristine locations for best beaches. Yes, I am biased to say that Caramoan and Burias top my list. And I’m thankful that the DOT hasn’t really found a way to outsell all these secret treasures. Not like what Boracay and Puerto Galera have been doing for the recent years. That’s rather sad but who are we to complain when opportunities equalize the lack of employment for the locals, right? Which when you closely analyze, such a move shouldn’t necessarily have the effects these treasured gems needlessly endure.

Compared with all the summers I had to go through, this year’s a big hit. There were a lot of places I went to, people I’ve come to share my adventures with, and discoveries I’ve uncovered. Although it was grief which welcomed us at first with our dear greatgrandma’s passing, it didn’t hinder the summer spirit to lift us up and ultimately savor the little surprises this momentary existence has to offer.

First destination: Legazpi.

Where my balikbayan relatives and I had to scout for the best bargains that we can dig in for our season wear, at least some items that one can’t find from my shop (shameless free plugging!). Picture-taking at the Cagsawa ruins and chasing Mayon Volcano’s tip for the rare shots was a complete treat. At night, James the incomparable life of the party/official heavy drinker/balikbayan pasaway, Flavs the resident gimikera/people’s walking directory and I would go bar hopping, drinking, and dancing till the bars had to literally turn the lights on to shoo us on our way to the door.

Next: Donsol, Sorsogon!

I had to coercively ask my brother/assigned driver of the pack to pull the breaks just for me to puke all the generous longsilog meal I ate for breakfast. Yup, the roads are endless spirals, worse than the Bitukang-manok one has to trek when traveling to Manila or Baguio’s Kennon Road. After almost bathing with Katinko, a really potent ointment for all sorts of dizziness and headaches, and sneaking some sleep, it was time to meet the butandings. Whale sharks or butandings are as gargantuan as a bus, while it was a consolation that all they ate are planks, I can’t help but be a little scared while they display those wickedly-placed small teeth infront of me. For Pete’s sake, they can be friendly without literally flashing on those smiles while I grit my own teeth to muster courage! It was an amazing experience though to play with these rare species. They have immense power and you just know it. But there they are, mingling with tiny, funny-looking creatures—us. It was an exhilarating moment. I met seven mighty butandings. I hope I’d see them again sooner. They made the bitter vomit extra worth it.

Then off we went to Burias Island, where beaches are unmatched. Finest sand, really friendly locales (to the point of being nosy, I know I lived there and loved the way it was and has always been), and great-tasting seafood. Clams, crabs, fishes of all variants, name it! Sumbrero Island is a masterpiece! And the Tinalisayan Islands, those were part of my childhood years. Then there’s the infinite buko eating and horseback-riding! The fondest memories are all alive once again in this little, unknown paradise. And how selfish I am up until this point that I wouldn’t want any ‘commercialized’ hands to dare touch them. Something about being territorial, you know.

Boracay – the ultimate tourist destination. Where parties and people-watching are the mainstream. And where sunsets are always entirely different everyday, breathtaking at the least. This year was different since I was with my relatives from Canada. We were all geared to have the best fun of our lives just yet. It was the first time that I did some island hopping, tried the banana boat while defying all the boatmen’s rules, rock climbed and reached the top in my very first attempt to conquer Patio Pacific’s infamous 12-meter climbing wall, and sung strings of songs, yes even the phenomenal ‘Pinoy Ako’ in the resort’s open bar. Of course, the parties always make the trip a certified blast. Club Paraw’s the newest party scene, replacing Cocomangas in a span of less than a year. The crowd’s just okay, not as much as last year’s mall-like environment. Overall, I think this Boracay experience was a huge leap from the first time since I shared it with coolest people on earth!

And who would miss Baguio from the list? There’s the usual visit to Mine’s View Park which sadly isn’t getting the best angle of views recently with the glaring eyesore of overpopulation and inconceivable city planning. Then there’s the novel experience of padding through the chilly although semi-stinking man-made lake at the Burnham Park. Since it was the peak, being the Holy Week, there are a number of people edging their way in or out the mass of equally-eager tourists to have their pictures taken at the Mansion, Botanical Gardens, and Camp John Jay. And what a way to remember this trip without a token or souvenir, right? I had the most unusual one at that, cutting my right ring finger almost in half while jumping off the ancient and rusting military truck displayed at the Camp. More than hurting me, it was the squeamish blood which scared the hell out of me. And you think that would stop me from partying all night? You’re dead wrong! I could’ve opted to stay put and go straight to Sagada but then the ‘goodie’ side of me rather pulled me back to my senses. On our way back, we were treated royalty with the broken aircon at the van. Nice. Very nice, but no thanks. I couldn’t even move my fingers since doing just that would mean giving yourself with extra motion heat. Whew! Good thing that Genova, Tarlac’s Isdaan was a fresh relief.

The summer’s just halfway through. I don’t know if I could still make it to Bohol or Palawan. But being cash-strapped after all these trips, I have no option but enjoy the early commutes to Binondo, Makati, and San Lazaro every day. Buckle up to work. Back to reality.

About the Author
Gel Rivera, aside from nagging prospects to invest in Philippine’s prime real estates, juggles three reads at a time, vents intrinsic rage and cheesy moments through writing, propels sleazy and reflective thoughts in between naps, kills time by staring at people, tweaks texts and laptop, nourishes himself with creative urban noise or music, and escapes blissfully to his frequently-typhoon ravaged yet pristinely-tucked paradise in Burias Island. He has written for the world-class coffee table book “Ina and the Bikol People”, contributed for Simbahang Lingkod ng Bayan’s publication, and edited annuals and magazines.

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